


Watching Solace

by RejectsCanon



Series: Finding Solace [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider, Rated T for language, contrary to the main fic there's no angst in this, guess what the original characters are the mcdonalds employees, i got so attached to these OC's while writing this jeez, i just think that customer service workers should be allowed to curse, i think, not too much but enough for a teen rating, there's a fair amount of cursing in this fic, this fic will probably make no sense if you don't read the first part, this is purely self-indulgent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RejectsCanon/pseuds/RejectsCanon
Summary: When the customer gets to the window, Gabrielle can see that he’s all red and splotchy, tear tracks clearly visible on his cheeks, and just generally looking miserable all swaddled in a sweater, and Gabrielle feels her heart twist in sympathy. The guy just keeps holding out his card to her, fidgeting a little in his seat, and that’s what tips her hand.“Hey, David?” she waits until David looks back at her, eyebrows raised and milkshake cup in hand. Good, he hasn’t poured it yet. “Make the milkshake a large, actually. This guy looks like he needs it.” Gabrielle takes the customer’s card, quickly swiping it before he can protest.Or, part one of this fic from the drive-thru workers' perspective.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Finding Solace [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147814
Comments: 38
Kudos: 208





	Watching Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I'm have returned after over a month of nothing and I bring you this lol. Exactly one (1) person asked for this, so naturally, I am here to deliver instead of working on literally any other project. My wip list stares at me in judgment. My two completely self-indulgent and unpublished fma:b fics laugh at me. I take a month to post a new atla fic and it’s an outsider pov. This is who I am. Sorry? Anyway, I hope you guys at least like this, because I had fun writing it. Hopefully I'll post again soon. Anyway, even though this is just Finding Solace from a different perspective, and most of the dialogue is the same, I did change some of it. Not enough to matter, really, but if something's not the same that's why. 
> 
> Not beta-read, so any mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Gabrielle has always had a love/hate relationship with working the overnight shift. 

Love, because it’s generally really quiet with very few customers, so she can get schoolwork done, or on even better occasions, take a nap. Since the night shift is never very busy, there’s only ever one or two other workers there, and Gabrielle has formed a kinship with the other overnighters. Plus, the dining room is closed at night, which means that customers can only ever come through the drive-thru, which makes them infinitely easier to deal with. 

Hate, because it’s the overnight shift and most of the time work is boring. Sure, she gets paid (not nearly enough, considering that the overnight shift comes with an inherent danger, but whatever). And yeah, if she puts her mind to it, she can get most of her school work done during her shift. But sometimes, time goes by so slowly it’s all she can do to keep from losing her mind. Those are the nights that she and David (her favorite overnight coworker by far) take turns stacking the sauces as high as they can and building increasingly elaborate towers with them. 

So, Gabrielle has a love/hate relationship with the overnight shift.

That is, until one night when something vaguely interesting happens. 

* * *

It starts as a regular night by her standards. Not many people have come through once midnight hit, baring the late-night students and partygoers. The night is quiet, almost peaceful, and Gabrielle wants nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed. Her shift is over at five o’clock, and she’s counting down the minutes until she can clock out and leave. She’s already finished her homework (thank you, David, for making them all coffee earlier) so now she’s resorted to organizing the sauces until something happens. 

Needless to say, the car coming through the drive-thru is a welcome distraction. She takes her spot at the window, waiting until the car is at an appropriate distance in front of the speaker before starting the welcoming spiel. 

“Hello, welcome to Mcdonalds. What can we get for you tonight?” she asks once she’s sure the car is close enough to the speaker. 

“Hi,” a voice responds. It might just be her headset, but the voice sounds more than a little rough. She vaguely hears the person clear their throat, and she’s worked this job long enough to know when someone’s voice sounds off. “Is it possible for me to get a milkshake?”

Gabrielle has never been more thankful that they haven’t cleaned out the ice cream machine yet, because she’s not about to make this person more upset by saying no. 

“Yes, you can get a milkshake,” she confirms. 

“Awesome. Can I have a medium chocolate milkshake and a large fry? Also an order of nuggets, please.”

“No problem, any sauce for the nuggets?” she asks, falling into the rhythm of punching in the order. 

“Barbeque, please.” Thank God she’s already sorted the sauces, because they had a grand total of five barbeques left, and if she had to dig through the mountain of sources to find them, that may have broken her. 

“Alright, we’ll have your total and your order at the window.” If the person looks as bad as their voice suggests, Gabrielle might sneak some extra nuggets in or knock some off the total. Maybe. The good thing about the night shift is that their manager is usually cool with them sneaking some extra food since it’ll have to get tossed anyway. David starts gathering the order for her once it’s in the system, staring balefully at their assortment of sauces (seriously, the morning people are gonna be pissed that the barbeque is gone), before grabbing the correct ones. 

She gets thanked one more time by the person, which is actually pretty nice, and she considers telling David to add an extra nugget or two before the car finishes pulling up to the window. “That’ll be 11.57, please,” she says before looking out the window and only just holds in a wince when she sees the guy’s face. He’s all red and splotchy, tear tracks clearly visible on his cheeks, and just generally looking miserable all swaddled in a sweater, and Gabrielle feels her heart twist in sympathy. The guy just keeps holding out his card to her, fidgeting a little in his seat, and that’s what tips her hand.

“Hey, David?” she waits until David looks back at her, eyebrows raised and milkshake cup in hand. Good, he hasn’t poured it yet. “Make the milkshake a large, actually. This guy looks like he needs it.” Gabrielle takes the customer’s card, quickly swiping it before he can protest.

David peeks his head around until he can catch a glimpse of the customer, and he’s not able to hold in his wince. But he does nod his head and pick up a large cup without comment. 

“I didn’t think I looked _that_ bad,” the poor guy says, croaky voice giving away the night of crying, but hey, at least he’s trying. Gabrielle hands him back his card, and he takes it, probably a little stunned. 

“Dude,” she says, as bluntly as she can, because she at least prefers honestly over empty platitudes after being upset. “You look like you just had a killer breakdown. I know it was just midterm season, but things can’t be that bad, right?” It’s mostly a rhetorical question, since this looks like more than a school breakdown, but she’s determined to give him an easy out. 

“Oh, this wasn’t a school breakdown. A lot of shit is going on with family, I guess,” the guy says, and then looks shocked and a little more upset at his accidental opening up. 

Fuck. 

She knows she looks concerned, she can _feel_ the pinch between her eyebrows and she can’t stop frowning now. Damn this job, making her care about strangers and giving her premature wrinkles. “Hey, David? Give this guy a couple of cookies, too,” she says before she can stop herself. She looks over to where he’s prepared the bag of food and sees that he’s already holding a baggie of cookies. This is why David is her favorite coworker. 

“But, I didn’t pay for that,” the guy argues. And yeah, Gabrielle gets that having strangers be kind to you sometimes makes the breakdown worse, but she _can't not_ give him an extra treat. 

“It’s fine,” she says, trying to make it seem like it’s not a big deal. It really isn’t, hardly anyone ever buys the cookies anyway and they always end up getting tossed. “We’d just have to throw them out anyway. Take the cookies, you’re doing us a favor, really.”

“Thank you,” he says, voice suspiciously thick all of a sudden, and Gabrielle whirls around to look back out the window at him. Sure enough, his eyes are starting to tear up, and god, Gabrielle _cannot_ handle watching this guy cry just because she’s giving him some free cookies. She can’t. 

That doesn’t stop her from babbling, though. She’s always been a nervous babbler, shit. “Oh, god, are you crying? Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine,” he says, quickly rubbing his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater, and _yeah right he’s fine_. “Not crying, there’s just something in my eye.”

She doesn’t believe him for a second, but she’ll let him have the terrible lie this time. He probably needs it. She keeps the rest of their interaction professional, handing him his order and offering a good night. She gets another thank you and a tiny smile that looks more pained than happy, and he drives off. 

She gets nudged by David not a few minutes later when she’s started organizing the creamer packets. She hums at him, and David points out the window. “He parked,” David says, motioning to the lone car in the parking lot. “At least he’s not driving when he’s still upset.”

“He said there was stuff going on at home, it must’ve been bad if he’s out driving mid-breakdown at 2 am,” she says, attempting nonchalant but knows she sounds upset. 

“I heard,” David says, going back to sweeping. “But we did what we could to make his night a little better. That’s all we can do.”

Gabrielle opens her mouth to say… something, she’s not sure yet, but it just feels wrong to leave the conversation there, when she sees the notice of a car in the drive-thru. She heads back to the window, David following behind her to do the order. 

“Hello, welcome to Mcdonalds, what can we get for you tonight?” 

“I’m literally begging you to tell me that I can get a milkshake tonight, please, I’m desperate.”

Well then. Gabrielle does a quick double-take, craning her neck to see the car still in the parking lot, and wondering if maybe this guy just multiplied, or they got the car wrong, or something. The voices are kind of similar, but completely different attitudes. Still-- 

“You’re not the guy who just came through after having a breakdown, are you? You sound kind of similar, but he just got a milkshake.” 

“I… I am _not_ the guy who just came through. There’s more than one of us having a breakdown tonight?” This guy definitely sounds like he also just came off a breakdown. Voice thick with that ‘just cried’ almost muffle, accompanied by the occasional sniffle. Gabrielle is a sucker, damn it. 

“Oh, yeah, you just missed him,” she says, forcing her voice casual. This seems like that type of situation. “Anyway, milkshakes are a go. What kind?”

“Um, chocolate, please. A medium,” he sounds a little flabbergasted now, which is a vast improvement over the ‘just cried’ voice. Gabrielle hates the ‘just cried’ voice. 

“Alright, anything else?” 

“Yeah, can I also get a large fry and two McChickens, please? That’s all.”

“No problem. We’ll have your total and your order at the window.”

She gets another thank you from this guy as well before he pulls up to the window. Gabrielle might have to start keeping track of how polite people are depending on their level of breakdown and see if that has any correlation. She feels like it might. 

Gabrielle makes sure to take a good look at this guy when she’s taking his card, and she can’t help but sigh. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot, eyelashes still wet with residual tears, and hair a mess. 

“You look just as bad as the other guy. Damn,” once again, she _hates_ when customers are sad. It makes her sad by default and she can’t do a thing about making them feel better. “You okay?”

“Well, I failed a midterm, which means I’m failing this class when I’m supposed to be graduating this semester,” the guy responds while Gabrielle runs his card through the machine. 

The, “Well, fuck,” blurts out before she can stop it, and she winces. David is laughing behind her, she just knows it. 

“And I’m guessing this class is important to graduating?” she asks, handing him back his card.

“Yup.”

“Hey, David. Give this guy a large milkshake and some cookies, too,” Gabrielle says. She turns to find David standing behind her, smiling smugly, already holding a large milkshake and a bag of cookies. 

Seriously. He’s her favorite. If either of them ever quits she might just have to go to drastic measures to stay in contact with him. 

“But I didn’t--” the guy tries to argue, but Gabrielle cuts him off. 

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t pay the difference. We already made a new match of milkshakes, so take the large. Less for us to clean up. And we’d have to throw the cookies out anyway if no one ate them. They don’t stay fresh for very long.”

David, to back her up, peeks his head out the window too, saying, “Oh yeah, you’re getting extra sweets. You look like you need it.”

The guy smartly doesn’t continue to argue, and thankfully he doesn’t start crying like the previous guy. 

About an hour later, David comes to find her in the back from where she’d been searching, pretty desperately, for another box of barbeque sauce (seriously, the morning shift tomorrow is gonna be pissed that they ran out of sauce and are gonna have to deal with terrible people yelling at them for something that’s not their fault). He takes her by the arm, pulling her out to the front and into the dining room.

“What?” she asks, looking around. If there’s a cockroach or a rat in here, she’s quitting, keeping contact with David afterward, and the need for a job be damned. 

“Look,” David says, pointing out the window. She follows his directions and sees--

Huh. The two guys from earlier are both sitting on the curb talking. One of them laughs.

“The breakdown boys are bonding,” David says, absolutely _delighted._

“If they get married, I want an invite to the wedding,” Gabrielle says, heading back to the storeroom, David’s laughter following behind her. 

* * *

Gabrielle honestly expects that to be the end of it. She has no expectation of seeing either of those two again, even if she does hope the two of them are doing better, or at least ended up not having such a terrible night after all. 

Which is why, when she sees them again, she has mixed feelings about it. On one hand, cool she gets to talk to them again. On the other hand, not so cool, they’re probably upset, which sucks. 

Thursday and Friday nights are the banes of Gabrielle’s existence. There are just _so many people_ coming through, even after the clock strikes midnight. The steady flow of customers is enough to keep them busy, and yeah, she’s not bored, but if one more drunk college guy almost throws up in the drive-thru, she’s turning the lights off and pretending they’re closed. She dares management to say anything about it. It takes a hardened individual to deal with the night shift consistently and they really lucked out with both Gabrielle and David being able to deal with it. 

Besides, they’re out of ranch this time, and if she has to listen to more barely-old-enough-to-drink’s loudly bemoan their loss of ranch, she might actually lose it. She gets it, she really does, having to eat your food without the appropriate dipping sauces sucks. Like, nearly ruins the whole meal, kind of sucks. But she can’t make the sauces appear out of thin air. She’s tried. It doesn’t work. 

Gabrielle has always been of the opinion that working a late-night shift at a food joint should grant her some kind of superpowers. It’s just not fair otherwise. 

It’s a bit after midnight when another car comes through the drive-thru, and Gabrielle dutifully takes her spot at the window. “Welcome to McDonald’s, how can I help you tonight?” she begins, fingers idly tapping at the screen in front of her. 

“Hi there,” the voice crackles through her headset. “Is it possible for me to get an Oreo McFlurry?”

Gabrielle cranes her head out, seeking out David who’s standing in front of the machine, staring balefully down at the Oreo mix. He nods solemnly. Gabrielle smirks at him. David hates making the McFlurries; he always gets ice cream all over his hands. He’ll get her back for this some other time, but right now it’s worth it.

“Sure,” Gabrielle responds to the customer. “Anything else?”

“Um, actually can I have two, please? That’s it,” the customer asks. 

“Two Oreo McFlurries?” she confirms. David sighs behind her. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Alright, that’ll be 5.98 at the window.” The customer thanks her before driving forward slowly. Gabrielle watches gleefully as David struggles with the machine and he glares at her. 

“I will get you back for this,” he warns. Gabrielle wouldn’t be surprised if she finds a rubber cockroach in her locker sometime soon. She still thinks it’s worth it. 

She pulls her attention back to the customer when the car fully pulls up to the window. Once the customer clearly comes into view, Gabrielle feels the recognition and welcoming smile light up her face. One of the breakdown boys is back! She doesn’t think he had sounded upset earlier, but to be fair, she hadn’t been fully paying attention, too focused on torturing David. 

Looking at his face though, Gabrielle’s smile quickly morphs into concern. It’s clear just from a glance that the guy in front of her is having a really rough night. His face is tear-stained, worse than she thinks it was last time. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen, like he’s been crying for hours, and he looks _exhausted_ . Bone-deep and weary, and Gabrielle’s heart twists because this looks like the kind of breakdown that just _hurts_. 

She slowly takes the card from his outstretched hand, quickly running it through. “You alright? This is your second late-night breakdown run in a little over a month? Or are there more that we just don’t see?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood a little. David looks over at this, mouthing ‘breakdown boy?’ looking a mixture of excited and sad when she nods. 

“No, this is the first big one since the last time,” he confirms. Gabrielle figures she should be glad that this poor guy isn’t constantly having breakdowns that make him look this defeated. 

“Do you want the McFlurries together in a big cup?” she offers. David can deal with having to transfer the ice cream to a different cup.

“You can do that?” he asks, a little bewildered. Gabrielle counts this as a win that there are some new emotions in his voice now. 

“Sure thing. David, will you put the McFlurries together in a large cup, please? And get some cookies.” David, bless him, is already putting the two ice creams together in a cup. She turns back to look through the window. “Don’t argue with me,” she warns as she hands him back his card.

“Yes, ma’am,” Breakdown Boy nods. Should she call him breakdown boy 1 or 2? Technically he came through second the first time, so it seems only fair that he be nicknamed Breakdown Boy 2. But, if the other guy never comes back, she’ll just have to call him Breakdown Boy, no number. 

“Smart boy,” she says, ignoring her inner musings, handing him a little box of cookies and then his ice cream. “I hope you feel better. Have a good night.”

“Thank you,” he says one last time before he pulls away. Once he’s out of sight, Gabrielle pushes the window closed, and sighs.

“I was kind of hoping if we ever saw them again, it would be as regular customers and not in the aftermath of a breakdown,” David says gently, wiping down the counter in front of the ice cream machine where some drops have spilled. 

“He looked really sad,” Gabrielle says. “He didn’t sound as bad as last time, but he looked worse. I think that might be worse.” David doesn’t respond this time, just keeps wiping down the counter. 

“Do you think we should’ve given him some actual food instead of just ice cream and cookies?” Gabrielle asks suddenly as the thought pops into her head. David looks over at her in surprise, but watches as he thinks it over, and sees the flash of regret pass across his face.

“Yeah, maybe we should’ve snuck some fries in there at least,” he muses.

Just as Gabrielle is really about to start bemoaning their lapse in thought, she notices a car coming into the drive-thru. She takes a quick peek into the parking lot, but doesn’t see any parked cars, and she hopes this car is Breakdown Boy coming for some actual food. Not that McDonald’s food is the pinnacle of food, but it has to be better than nothing. 

“Are you back for some actual food instead of just ice cream? I knew we should’ve given you some nuggets or something,” is the first thing out of Gabrielle’s mouth before a greeting. From her peripheral, she can see David waving at her frantically, but before she can do more than give him a questioning look, a different voice comes from the speaker. 

“Um, I haven’t come through tonight?” the voice comes through, sounding very confused, and oh my god. Just end her now, this is perhaps the most embarrassing thing she’s done at work. She can hear David cackling evilly behind her and she can’t even fault him for it. 

“Oh, my gosh, I’m sorry,” she says, trying desperately to push down the blush taking over her face and to sound professional. “What can I get for you?”

“Um, can I have a McChicken and a medium fry, please? And a medium Sprite,” the customer orders, thankfully opting to push through the awkwardness. 

“Will that be all?” she asks, voice coming out steady.

“Yes, please.”

“5.87 at the window, please.”

She gets a quick and quiet ‘thank you’ before the person starts pulling forward. David is still laughing behind her, wiping at his eyes, and she tosses a rag at him.

“I was trying to tell you that the guy parked,” David wheezes out. “He’s more in a corner, so you didn’t see him.”

“I hate you,” Gabrielle hisses. “I hate you so much.”

“I’m your favorite and you know it,” David says confidently, gathering up the order. Gabrielle ignores him, turning to the window with a picture-perfect customer service smile, only to have it fall off in surprise when she gets a look at the customer. Breakdown Boy 1. Gabrielle vaguely wonders if these two guys coordinate their breakdowns, cause if they don't, they definitely should. 

“Oh, it’s you,” Gabrielle says in surprise. David looks over at this, and both of his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He starts reaching for the cookies. 

“Hi,” Breakdown Boy 1 says, looking a little embarrassed as he holds out his card. 

“How are you doing tonight?” she asks, surveying him through the little window. Gabrielle doesn’t think he looks all that bad. Tired, definitely, but not like he’s been crying. Nothing at all like Breakdown Boy 2.

“I’ve been better, but uh, not as bad as I was last time I was here,” he admits. 

“That’s good. We’re still giving you cookies, though. Also a large Sprite,” she says absently, just glad his voice doesn’t sound as raspy and thick as the first time she spoke to him.

“I probably won’t drink all of it,” he argues. “That would be a waste.”

“But what if you do drink all of it? Or if you run out and wish you had more? Besides, all the drinks are the same price anyway, so you might as well take a large,” she says, handing him back his card. 

“Well, thanks, I guess,” he acquiesces, not seeming in a mood to argue. He didn’t even mention the cookies. 

As Gabrielle waits for David to gather the order, and Breakdown Boy 1 is distracted with putting his card back into his wallet, Gabrielle is hit with a sudden inspiration. 

“Sorry about how I acted before,” she says to Breakdown Boy 1. “It’s just, another guy came through barely more than five minutes ago and all he got was ice cream. I thought he might’ve wanted some food, too.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he is quick to assure her, which is really rather nice. “Though I have to admit, I’m a little shocked other people are coming through this late.”

“Well, he didn’t look all too great. I think he needed the ice cream,” she says carefully. She doesn’t really want to gossip or give out too much information. But, she remembers watching these two through the window last time. How they talked to each other for hours and went from mutual breakdowns to mutual laughs. And damn it, she just wants them to feel a little better. Breakdown Boy 1 doesn’t say anything in response, just takes his things as she hands them over, but he looks contemplative. 

“Anyway,” she says, shrugging away the words and handing over his order. “I hope you feel better and have a good night.”

“Thank you,” he responds, giving her what looks like a genuine smile before he drives away. 

She and David watch him leave the drive-thru, and how he drives slowly through the parking lot before pulling into a space next to the only other car there. 

“Are we meddling now?” David asks as Breakdown Boy 1 exits his car and goes over to talk to Breakdown Boy 2, who soon gets out of his car as well and the two go to sit on the curb. 

“Yeah, why not?” Gabrielle says with a shrug. “It seems like they might be good at calming each other down, at the very least.”

David hums but doesn’t say anything else. Gabrielle keeps watching the two through the windows as David walks off, but she doesn’t pay it any mind. 

That is, until something cold and wet is smeared on her cheek and a gasp is wrenched out of her chest. She whirls around to find David doubled over in laughter, a spoon full of ice cream clutched in one hand. Gabrielle wipes at her cheek, and sure enough, her hand comes away covered in ice cream. 

“Oh, revenge is _sweet_ ,” David sighs, laughter still bubbling from his throat. Gabrielle groans at the horrible pun, wiping at her cheek again as she heads to the storeroom.

She has some ranch to find while David finishes cleaning up the ice cream. 

* * *

Gabrielle can’t find any ketchup. 

It’s a Tuesday night in May, school is nearly out for the summer, it’s been at least a month since either of the Breakdown Boys came in, and Gabrielle can’t find any ketchup. 

How the hell does _McDonald’s_ run out of _ketchup_? Where did it all go? Is she finally going crazy? Is the ketchup right in front of her and she just can’t see it? 

“David!” she calls a little desperately. “Please tell me you found some ketchup. A packet? A jug? A store-bought bottle? Anything? Please tell me I’m not going crazy.”

“Gabby, my friend, my partner in crime, my fellow sufferer of a shitty minimum wage job. There is _no ketchup_ _anywhere_ in this building,” David calls back, voice muffled from where it’s buried in one of the cabinets in the back. 

“How does McDonald’s run out of ketchup?” she asks the ether. “What have we done to deserve this? Were we bad people in a past life, David? Is that why we suffer like this? I bet no other McDonald’s runs out of sauces like this.”

“We must’ve been horrible degenerates in a past life. Maybe we were _actually_ partners in crime,” David muses. “Maybe we robbed banks. Or stagecoaches. That must be it.”

Gabrielle is inclined to agree with him because this really is getting ridiculous. Two weeks ago they ran out of sweet and sour sauce, and now they’re out of ketchup. However, before Gabrielle breaks even further, and starts looking in places like the restroom for ketchup, they get the notice that a car is coming through the drive-thru. 

If they ask for ketchup, she’s quitting right then and there. 

Gabrielle takes a deep sigh, releasing it slowly. David comes to stand with her, waiting to put together the incoming order. There’s dust in his hair from digging around cabinets they didn’t even know were _there_ looking for some ketchup. 

“Welcome to McDonald’s, how can I help you tonight?” she begins once the car is close enough. 

“Your customer service voice scares me,” David mumbles, and she sends him a sharp grin. 

The customer on the other end is quiet for just long enough that Gabrielle is about to repeat herself, when--

“Hi there, you wouldn’t happen to be our breakdown expert worker, would you?” she finally hears, and holy shit, one of the Breakdown Boys is back! And if she’s remembering their voices correctly, this is Breakdown Boy 2. 

“Oh, my gosh, one of you guys is back,” she says excitedly. “We were starting to wonder if either of you would ever come back.” David disappears from next to her, and when she manages to catch sight of him, she sees that he’s over by the cookies, already gathering some together. _This_ is why David is her favorite. 

“Oh, don’t worry, the other guy is behind me,” Breakdown Boy 2 continues, as if that’s supposed to make her feel better. “Anway, please tell me the ice cream machine is working enough for like, two fudge sundaes?”

“I think we can work something out for you,” Gabrielle says. “Will that be all?”

“Um, maybe a large fry, too? And a water, please.”

“Alright, 8.47 at the window, please,” she says as she finishes putting in the order. She gets a kind of cheerful ‘thank you’ that makes her hope that the Breakdown Boys are _not,_ in fact, breaking down tonight. At least, not terribly. 

David glares at the sundae order, because he hates messing with the toppings as much as he hates mixing McFlurries, but he begins making them nonetheless. Gabrielle feels for him, really, because those toppings and sauces get _everywhere_ no matter how careful you are. She turns away from watching David struggle when Breakdown Boy 2’s car pulls up to the window. 

“Hey, you don’t look nearly as bad as the other times you’ve been here,” she says happily, taking in his tearless and healthily flushed face. He maybe looks a little tired, but he’s a college student and it’s nearing finals, so that’s practically a given. 

“Yeah, tonight’s not so much of a breakdown as much as it is just stress about finals and life and everything,” he confirms. “No tears tonight, hopefully.”

“Let’s keep it tearless,” she agrees readily, nodding her head. “We’re still throwing in a few cookies, though.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” he argues. “I’m hyper enough as it is, and this ice cream is gonna mess me up even more. The cookies are not necessary.”

“You’re getting the cookies,” Gabrielle insists, shooting him a defiant look. David already put the cookies in their own little bag. He’s getting the cookies. 

“Ya know, I’m not gonna argue with you, actually,” he decides, rather smartly. 

“Good,” she says happily, and hands him the sundaes. David put them both into one cup, just like the previous McFlurries, and Breakdown Boy 2 takes the cup of ice cream in awe. Good, someone who appreciates David as much as she does. She hands over the rest of his order, noting that what must be the other Breakdown Boy is already waiting in the drive-thru. She sends him off with a cheery ‘Have a good night!’ that gets eagerly returned, before turning her attention to the next car. 

“Welcome to McDonald’s, how can I help you?” she asks cheerfully. 

“Hi, can I have one fudge sundae, please?” comes the voice of what is most definitely Breakdown Boy 1. 

“You sure can, anything else?”

“Um, a medium fry? And a medium coke, please?”

“Alright, that’ll be 5.88 at the window.”

“The other one is here now?” David whispers conspiratorially. She nods at him, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Did they come together, do you think?”

“The first one knew that this one was behind him, so they at least knew the other would be here, if they didn't come together,” Gabrielle says, but quickly shushes him as the car fully pulls up to the window.

“Oh, you’re looking very stressed,” Gabrielle can’t help but say once she gets a good look at him. The bags under his eyes are dark and deep, telling of very little sleep for a long period of time. 

“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” Breakdown Boy 1 sighs. He sounds a little helpless like he’s gotten used to feeling however he’s feeling. It kind of sucks to see.

“Well, hopefully, we can make that a little better,” she says, looking to where David is resolutely filling a large fry rather than a medium, bag of cookies already sitting on the counter. “We’ll get some extra treats ready for you. Some cookies and a large fry.”

“Do you guys get in trouble for doing stuff like that?” Breakdown Boy 1 asks instead of arguing. Huh, he’s the first to ever ask that.

“Nah, no one really notices. And if they do we just say that someone was giving us problems and then no one argues,” she says. Plus, this McDonald’s would be lost without her and David. There’s a reason the two of them are trusted with the late-night shift every night. She hands him his order with a happy, “Anyway, I hope you have a good night!”

The sentiment is returned, and Gabrielle and David watch him drive off before moving closer to the front of the building, where they can see the Breakdown Boys through the windows. They’ve parked their cars next to each other and are already getting ready to sit on the curb next to each other.

“So, do you think they coordinated this? It seems a bit like too much of a coincidence that they just happened upon each other,” David muses. 

“Maybe they’re talking outside of this?” Gabrielle wonders. “They came in separate cars, but they seemed to know the other was there. And they seem comfortable around each other.”

“This is the single most entertaining thing that’s ever happened at this job,” David declares. 

“Oh, absolutely,” she agrees. “We’ve watched a complete friendship form over breakdowns and ice cream. We deserve raises.”

“Hell yeah we do,” David nods. 

For a little while, they stay near the front, cleaning the dining room and organizing near the registers, occasionally sneaking glances out the windows. But then an hour or so passes, and another customer comes through the drive-thru that they have to attend to.

When they ask for ketchup to go along with their order, Gabrielle swears she feels her soul leave her body. 

* * *

Neither Gabrielle nor David see the Breakdown Boys for a pretty long time after that. It’s been months, the longest either of them has been in coming through, and Gabrielle is just about ready to give up hope on them ever returning. Maybe they’ve found another midnight hangout, or maybe they’ve gone to a different McDonald’s that _actually has fucking sauces._ Or maybe neither of them have had a breakdown bad enough that they’ve felt the need to come to McDonald’s in the middle of the night. 

Gabrielle thinks she’s justified in hoping for the last one. 

Anyway, none of that really matters right now, because this tonight is gearing up to be one of the worst nights Gabrielle or David have had since they started working here. 

For one, they’ve somehow managed to run out of three different sauces. _Three. Different. Sauces._ No ketchup, no barbeque, and no spicy buffalo. Gabrielle hates it when they run out of spicy buffalo. The people who ask for spicy buffalo are usually really nice, and when she tells them they don’t have any, they don’t get angry, they just get _sad._ Plus, it’s _her_ favorite sauce, and that means when she ends her shift at five am and takes home a bunch of nuggets, she won’t have any sauce to go with it. 

And the ice cream machine is broken.

Like, actually broken. Someone during the afternoon shift had been in the middle of making a new batch of milkshake, when _something_ went wrong and the machine started spewing everywhere. Even after the machine had been shut off and unplugged, it still kept leaking until all the liquid was gone from it. Earlier, David had tried to fix it, because as much as he loathes the machine, he’s been here for years and takes immense pride in being known as the only McDonald’s in town whose ice cream machine always works. 

It had spewed more mix right into his face. 

Gabrielle hadn’t even been able to laugh at him because it was such a heartbreaking moment.

It took forever to fully clean the place of any and every trace of ice cream, and even then, she thinks she’ll be smelling sweet vanilla and sugar on her person for days to come. She can’t imagine how David feels. 

So, naturally, when a familiar voice comes through the speaker at 1 am, Gabrielle is too exhausted to notice right away. 

“Hi, welcome to McDonald’s. What can I get for you tonight?” David cringes at her because even her customer service voice is taking a hit tonight. 

“Hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurries, please?” the customer asks, and Gabrielle just _barely_ holds back a sigh. She does glare at the machine a little, though. So does David. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, as apologetically as she can. “But the machine isn’t working right now.”

She hears a groan and a slightly muffled laugh, and Gabrielle just hopes she isn’t about to get yelled at again tonight. “Okay, can I get two large fries and two ten piece nuggets, please?” the customer asks, thankfully not sounding angry. 

“Of course, will that be all?” she asks, still glaring at the ice cream machine. Does it not care that it’s ruining their reputation? 

“Yes, please,” the customer says, and at least this person is being polite.

“Alright, we’ll have your total and your order at the window,” she says, finishing putting in the order. She gets thanked by the customer before they pull up, and she thinks they might be trying to make up for the groan from earlier. 

As she waits for the customer to pull up to the window, she hears David whisper “you’re dead to me” to the ice cream machine. 

They need new jobs. Haven’t they earned it by now?

The car pulls up to the window, and Gabrielle opens the window, looking at the screen to read out the total before taking a look at the car. “Alright, so your total is going to be-- oh my gosh, it’s you guys!”

David looks away from glaring at the ice cream machine and putting together the order at her exclamation. His jaw drops when he sees who’s at the window. She watches as he rushes to where they keep the cookies, a box already in hand. 

“Gabrielle!” Breakdown Boy 2 says, just as excited as she is. Breakdown Boy 1 leans forward from his spot in the passenger seat and waves. 

“Oh, my gosh, you two are friends now?” she asks, because she has to make sure. “Wait, are you guys having breakdowns right now? Because I’m sorry but the machine really is broken right now.” 

She hates the machine even more now. Not only has it _ruined_ their reputation, but it’s stopped her from giving the Breakdown Boys ice cream. She’s unreasonably upset about it. 

“Nah, no breakdowns tonight. Just came to get some food,” she gets reassured, which is good. He hesitates for just a breath before continuing, speaking a little faster. “Also, we’re a little bit more than friends.”

For a second, it doesn’t click for Gabrielle, why he phrased it like that, but when it does… 

When it does, Gabrielle has to actively keep herself together.

“What do you mean? Like, are you guys together? Did you guys get together after meeting in a McDonald’s parking lot?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“This has just turned into the best day of my life. David!” she calls out, because even though she’s sure he heard, she has to say it again. “Our breakdown customers are dating now! And they’re not here because of a breakdown!” 

David comes to stand next to her by the window so he can easily look out and talk, and _wow_ he really smells like ice cream. Just pure sugar. She’s not sure any cologne will mask that. 

“Wow,” David says playfully. “Ya know, I never thought a McDonald’s parking lot would be a place to find romance, but what do you know.”

“Shut up, this is so cute,” Gabrielle says, still beaming.

“No breakdowns tonight?” David asks, ignoring her.

“Nope,” Breakdown Boy 2 confirms happily. 

“Wow,” David says again. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” they both say, and really, who can blame Gabrielle for what she says next?

“Alright,” she says, clapping her hands. “Your food is free tonight. This is too great. Nothing will ever top this.”

Of course, the Breakdown Boys start to argue with her. As if some nuggets and fries would’ve been more than just ten dollars anyway. McDonald’s is a multi-million dollar company, they can deal with missing some nuggets and fries. 

“Oh, no,” Breakdown Boy 2 starts to argue. “We can’t do that. We didn’t come here to try and con free food, I swear.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Gabrielle says, because really, neither of these boys seem like the conning type. “But I’m not charging you anyway. You give me your card and I’ll charge you something ridiculous, like a penny. Watch me.”

“But--”

“Nope,” she interrupts and starts shoving their bag through the window. “No arguing. This is great. Thank you so much for coming back.”

He takes the bag, but he still looks too hesitant for Gabrielle’s comfort. The one in the passenger seat is laughing at them. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” she says at the same time David says, “She’s sure.”

“Alright,” he says, still a little cautious. “Thank you.”

Breakdown Boy 1 stops his laughing long enough to give his thanks as well. Gabrielle and David both wish them a good night and watch as they drive off. They don’t park, and Gabrielle figures they’re taking the food back to one of their places. 

“I put a box of cookies in the bottom of the bag,” David says.

“Of course you did,” Gabrielle laughs. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

Now, to continue dealing with the broken ice cream machine. 

* * *

A few years later, when Gabrielle and David are no longer working the night shift at Mcdonald’s, she reads an article about a couple who met in a McDonald’s parking lot after mutual bad nights, and the subsequent bonding over milkshakes got them together. McDonald’s is gifting them a year-long coupon for nuggets because obviously, that’s the kind of promotion that the CEO’s just eat up, pun intended. When she sees the picture attached to the article, Gabrielle nearly makes herself sick laughing. 

Staring back at her from her phone’s screen, are Zuko (Breakdown Boy 1) and Sokka (Breakdown Boy 2).

David comes into the room, drawn by her laughter. “What is it?” he asks, and she just shoves her phone at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Are you serious?” David says incredulously, laughter caught between the words. “I feel like we deserve a cut of that.”

“Hell yeah, we do,” Gabrielle agrees, taking her phone back and commenting just that on the article. 

A few hours later, she gets a response from Sokka, offering them all the nuggets they want, and a demand to direct message him. She laughs so hard David has to take over the rest of the correspondence. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I hope y'all liked this fic! I’ve decided that since this McDonald’s nearly always has their ice cream machine working, it’s always out of one or more sauces. Cosmic justice. As always, here are some links for various crises happening in the world. Remember to take care of yourselves! 
> 
> Black Lives Matter petitions, donations, and other resources [here](https://t.co/ScNVY4VxD2?amp=1)  
> If you can’t donate, [here’s](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLlhfJSrlPNthnoD1XFDHzmdf6Mpt2pe-2&feature=share) a youtube playlist where all the proceeds from the videos are being donated to BLM charities  
> Yemen Crisis Links [here](https://yemencrisis.carrd.co/)  
> Helping Lebanon Links [here](https://helplebanon.carrd.co/)  
> COVID-19 and others (US specific): [here](https://www.acf.hhs.gov/otip/news/covid-19-resources-services-support)
> 
> [Here’s](https://rejectscanon.tumblr.com/) my tumblr if you want to peruse and enjoy


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